Struggles and prosperity
by Heptopus
Summary: Set after the end of Red Seas Under Red Skies. Locke and Jean tries to deal with Locke's declining health, as well as unforeseen obstacles in a new city. As usual their plan does not work as well as they wish and they end up in a lot of trouble.
1. First Signs

"Well I am fucking hungry!" The shout echoed across the still waters around them and a group of seagulls took flight from a nearby shallow.

"That's not an excuse for how you're acting, you're not five-fucking-years old Locke."

"Just because that cat got in the pantry we have to starve to death? Is that it?"

Jean discreetly shifted his body so he was shielding more of Regal and said, with emphasis on every word, "We do not eat the cat."

Locke turned away, grumbling in tune with his stomach. This trip was turning out worse than he would have imagined, not counting the whole being poisoned thing. They had been out at sea for about a week, creeping up the coast and doing their best ignoring the rising tension between them. Or 'mounting tension' was maybe a more appropriate way to put it. Locke knew Jean did his best to hide his anger, hide how betrayed he felt about being tricked to drink the antidote, but the clenched fists and the sullen silence were hard to miss, especially for Locke.

He heaved a deep sigh as he look out over the horizon, it was endless and it was beautiful. But after that whole fiasco dealing with sailing it and pretending to know how that was done, he mostly saw the potential for danger in those still waters. And the potential for frighteningly large sea beasts. Not that such an encounter would matter much now, he would be dead soon anyways. As the thought hit him he was once again surprised over how calm he felt, how he already seemed to have accepted it so fully. He felt like he should be angrier, maybe scream a bit and throw a real royal tantrum, but the only thing that really bothered him was the thought that Jean would have to deal with everything all alone afterwards. Jean had been right, making him drink the antidote had been selfish as hell, but that did not mean that he regretted it.

If he was being honest there was one part of this whole business that did disturb him though. And it was the fact that he did not know when or even how the poison would take effect. _Fucking Tal Verrar and its dearly departed fucking Archon_.

He was startled out of his merry reflections by a thud and a swearing Jean cursing the boat that kept them above the surface.  
"The boat is still plotting the murder of your knees?" he asked as he turned around, careful to be as cheeky as he would have been during normal circumstances.

"If we do not get of this boat soon I swear I'll either swim to shore and leave your sorry ass behind or put one of the sisters through the hull."

"Would be a terrible waste of a fine boat. I thought you had really gotten the taste for sailing, and this is such a private and luxurious vessel."

"The only waste here is that of your words in my ears. It's one thing to be on a large ship, no matter how many ill-mannered people you share it with, it's quite another to be stuck in this small barrel. Soon one of us is going overboard."

"Come now, no need to resort to personal attacks or mass drowning."

"Personal drowning is looking more and more appealing."

Locke heaved another sight. When Jean decided to unreasonable, he always went the whole way.  
"I thought it was my role to be the whiny bitch," said Locke, "and before you decide that my skull is better suited for one of the sisters than the hull of the boat, let me just point put that we need to make for land anyway. The cat made sure of that when it ate all our provisions."

"Don't blame the cat," Jean grumbled, stroking the black menace that had somehow wormed it's way into his arms, "and as a matter of fact I was going below deck to check what city that might be that we are heading towards when the boat decided I needed to be a couple of feet shorter."

Jean tilted his head to indicate the piece of shore quite a bit ahead of them that had come into view as they rounded the latest small cape just a couple of minutes ago. Locke turned his head to see what he was looking at and immediately cursed his own inattentiveness, there was indeed a town resting on the shore. Not a impressing large one, but it was definitely more than a small fishing village. He even though he could glimpse one or three buildings large enough to be more than simple housing.

"Well don't let me keep you then. And while you're down there why don't you try and find something that the devil in your arms didn't chew on? If we are making for port I would like to arrive without my stomach resorting to eating itself on the way."

"And you were worried that I would steal your title of whining bitch."

"Well I have to keep up appearances, can't compromise my winning personality now can I."

"I'll compromise you if we don't reach that town soon."

Jean turned around before Locke could retort and made his way down the short flight of stairs, taking Regal with him. Locke glared after him.

"Then you better-" The bout of dizziness hit Locke like a fist in the face, and he lurched sideways, coming dangerously close to taking a dive into the frigid waters of the sea before he caught himself at the last minute on the small railing and sank down to the deck. His vision swam and for a short time he was not sure he knew what was up and what was down anymore.

"Finally at a loss for snarky comebacks, eh?" Jeans voice came from below deck and Locke forced himself to take deep breaths and focus. Whatever it was that just happened, it would not do to worry Jean about it. Just a spell of dizziness, nothing serious. This was nothing compared to what was to come, Locke knew, and to start weighting Jean down with it already was not an option.

"Not at all, " said Locke, forcing his voice to sound normal and not as winded and afraid as he felt, "simply not bothering with the easy fights. Did you find the name of the town that will soon get the pleasure of our visit?"

There was a small pause before Jean answered that Locke chose to ignore. "It's apparently called Suarra. Large enough that our visit will not be especially noted but small enough that there should be no well informed officials that know of us. Seems pretty ideal. Can't say I've heard of it before though." As Jean spoke he walked back up the stairs, this time with the map in hand and no cat to be seen. Locke idly wondered if Regal somehow had managed to get to their last few supplies instead of Jean and with a grumbling of his stomach he deemed it entirely possible.

Locke adjusted himself so it merely looked as if he was sitting down, and not as if he had suddenly collapsed. The world had stopped spinning and he was almost in control again.

"Sounds perfect! Let's make all possible haste."

"Stop lounging around and help set the course then," said Jean, "we should be able to make it before sundown without any problems."

And id Locke kept closer to the middle of the boat and made sure to sit down as much as possible as they worked, he made sure that he acted as normally as he could and that Jean had no case to suspect anything.

They had a long way to go before this was over after all.


	2. The Harbormaster

As they finally docked they were greeted by an almost empty dock and an hourly long search for the harbormaster. The whole district was almost deserted, and the few people they did see were quick to dive into shadows and alleyways, making it clear that it would be a bad idea to give pursuit.

It was a bit unsettling, and they would probably have given up and gone out to sea to search for a friendlier town if they had had the rations for it. But as it were they were stuck here, walking through the sludge of the dirty streets, looking for a man who hid from his own job.

When they finally stumbled upon the harbormaster he was deep in a mug of beer and about as friendly as you would expect from someone who worked with sailors every day. Locke and Jean had almost given up the search, and had made their way into one of the many seedy taverns in the docks as a last resort to get information about the harbormasters whereabouts, since these were the only places that seemed to harbor some, at least relatively, talkative people. To call the tavern 'rundown' would have been a compliment, and the smell was thick even a couple of houses down the street. That was probably one of the reason why the street was empty of everything except a couple of dogs, even though they usually were packed with all kinds of shady people outside places such as this.

Just as they opened the door, and the traditional silence settled over the patrons as they surveyed the newcomers- to rob or not to rob? - a loud and boisterous laugh drew Locke's attention to a corner of the room where a large man was sitting surrounded by young sailors, slapping his thighs in mirth and sloshing beer all over the table.

"Am I going blind or is that a harbormasters uniform?" Locke leaned over to ask Jean as the mumble in the tavern once more rose in volume. Jeans size, and well-rehearsed intimidating glares, were useful in many ways.

"If it's supposed to look anything like the ones in Tal Verrar, then that's our man," Jean answered as he relaxed his stance along with the atmosphere in the room, "We might have had more luck bargaining with that dog licking its own balls outside though."

Jean shook his head as the big, drunk, man downed the last of his beer and made another joke that had the young sailors around the table laughing nervously in response. His own laughter drowned them all out though, and he seemed barely aware of his company.

"That's just mean to the dog, it never seemed this self-centered," said Locke, looking on in disgust. That he himself had turned to alcohol for release once somehow made it even harder to watch.

No one at the table acknowledged their presence as they made their way over, all focus was on the harbormaster as he was currently re-telling a tale of when he single-handedly rescued all the prostitutes in a burning brothel. Locke kicked the rickety chair he was balancing on two legs, and the harbormaster flew forward to regain his balance, succeeding in smacking his head against the beer stained table and turning everyone's full attention to the newly arrived pair.

"Hello!" Locke greeted the group with a big smile, "Sadly we are no whores burning with desire, but can we have some of your time nonetheless?"

"What the fuck do you want?" The harbormaster asked, rubbing his red forehead and straightening himself in the chair.

"Only for you to do your fucking job, my good sir," Locke said, "there's a boat awaiting your attention, please indulge it."

"What the fuck is your problem? Can't you see I'm off duty?"

"It's the middle of the day and you have your uniform on," Locke waved him off, "you can go back to this sad life of yours after you've done your job and registered our boat."

The harbormaster rose from the chair, and with him rose the group of young sailors around the table. He took a threatening step towards Locke, "If you do not leave-"

He abruptly cut of his sentence, and Locke knew that Jean had moved up behind him.

"So as I was saying, please come with us."

* * *

"If I had known it was such a hassle being a law-abiding citizen in this fucking town, I would never have bothered," Locke muttered to himself as they finally made their way up from the sea sprayed streets closest to the sea.

They had managed to drag the drunk harbormaster from the tavern and down to their boat where he, amidst grumbles of revenge and burps, had done the necessary paperwork before stumbling off down the street in search of a new gaggle of youngsters to intrude on.

"Well, it was you who insisted that we do it the right way," Jean answered.

"I'm trying to gain some point in my final days."

He had meant it as a joke, but he could see in the stiffness of Jeans shoulder that it had been a bad one, "I'm sorry Jean. But you have to accept-"

"Let's just find someplace to sleep for tonight," Jean interrupted him, "this whole town can't be as deserted as these docks, it's giving me the creeps."

"That lovely harbormaster must have scared everyone off."

Locke figured there was no point in arguing with Jean, it never was when he got like this. He simply hoped that jean would come to accept how things were now, accept what would eventually happen. Fortunately, Locke had gone the whole day without a spell of dizziness, but his head was pounding as if to remind him that all was not well. And Jean was right, the docks had been uncomfortably empty off people, even in the middle of the day. In most cities the docks were among the most bustling quarters; filled to the brim with markets, sailors, and the glorious mix of decay and vitality that usually permeated such streets. But in Suarra the streets were almost empty, and the people shunned each other like the plague. It was enough to convince them that something was going on, but they had not come here to get involved, so they quickly made their way up the streets towards the rest of the city.

Just beyond the docks the city was bustling with life. It was as if the people shunned the water, and it was almost shocking to suddenly be surrounded by so many people after the deserted and murky streets down by the water. Locke took a deep breath and reminded himself that they were not known here, they were as safe as could be at the moment. Instead, he focused on the city itself. The buildings seemed to be too tall for their width, lining the roads in a never ending row of wood, leaning out over the streets at almost unnatural angles. Since the buildings were so tall, the sun was constantly hidden behind one or another, and Locke found himself surprisingly grateful. His head had been hurting all day, and the respite from the glaring sun was more soothing than he would like to admit.

The people that walked the shadowy streets were all somber and seemed to be prepared for anything- almost every hip was adorned with some sort of knife.

"They carry their weapons out in the open? They are either very good, or very stupid," said Locke, veering out of the way as a group of what looked like bankers walked past with knife as long as their upper arms swaying at their hips, "I think my money is on stupid."

"I don't know," said Jean, "they all seem somewhat tense. I would not pick unnecessary fights with these people."

"When do I ever pick unnecessary fights?"

Jean simply looked at him and Locke smiled, "I get it I get it, we will keep a low profile here. What do you say, it's about time to find someplace to rest, yes? Let's see what this place has to offer in the way of inns that won't leave us without possessions and clothes when we wake up."


	3. Lessons to Learn

They ended up at an inn much like the Silver Lantern in Vel Virazzo, even though this one was nowhere near as fancy, and the similarities brought uncomfortable memories for both of them. Locke spent the next couple of days trying to convince both himself and Jean that he had no plans, ever, to go back to that self-pitying state. But his increasingly shitty health made it hard.

At first it was nothing bad, just the same old headaches and dizzy spells that he had been suffering from during the last couple of days. But then, one day, Locke woke to the taste of blood in his mouth. His heartbeat sped up, and he had to fight to keep his breathing even and calm; he could hear Jean snoring in his bed just across the room and he did not want to wake him. Slowly he extracted himself from the tangled and damp sheets– had he been having a nightmare? – and made his way into the small bathroom connected to their rooms. Once inside he quickly shut the door before allowing himself to acknowledge the panic that was growing in his chest, and he made his way over to the washbasin with stumbling steps before catching himself on the edge and spitting into the bowl. Frothy spit, the color of diluted wine. He spat again. And again. Locke realized that he was shaking, and he forced himself to take deep breaths. It could be nothing. He had had a nightmare, maybe he had simply bit his tongue while he slept. There was a small, clouded, mirror on the wall above the basin, and Locke stuck his tongue out to inspect it. Nothing. He opened his mouth and tilted his head to see inside, wiped the sleeve of his nightshirt across the glass to clear it but only succeeded in dragging the grime around a bit, but he did manage to see that the blood was coming from his gums. It was not much, since he had spit out what had been in his mouth when he woke there was only the barest hint of red around some teeth in the back now, but it was enough for Locke to feel his stomach drop. New symptoms? He had never experienced anything like this before, he would be naïve to think it was anything but the poison.

"You asleep in there Locke?"

Locke startled as Jeans voice was heard through the door, nearly succeeding in actually biting his tongue as he slammed his mouth shut.

"Fuck- Jean! You scared the shit out of me!"

"Done soon then, I hope. Come on, I need to go."

"Yeah, right. Just wait a minute."

Locke took a couple of slow breaths to calm down and quickly relieved himself before washing away any signs of blood from the basin. As he exited the small bathroom he smiled at Jean before starting to get dressed, gathering his clothes from the floor where he had thrown them last night. No need to fear what he could not control, and especially no need to scare Jean.

To keep himself occupied, and Jean of his back, he offered to make the days run to the market. Jean was a bit surprised, and Locke kicked himself for not realizing that it was Jeans turn to go to the market. He fumbled with his words a little, finally admitting to a nightmare and the need to breath some fresh air, and in the end they had simply gone together.

They had spent the first couple of days in Suarra trying to get a feel for the city without having to make contact with the street's lowlifes, and so they were both rather familiar with the layout of the roads in the area around the inn they were staying in, and the way to the market was one they both knew well.

"So," Jean glanced at Locke from the corner of his eye as they walked down the street, "How are you feeling?"

"How am I feeling? Well, I think there's a blister on my pinky toe, but I'm not sure yet."

"Don't give me that, you know what I mean. Have you noticed anything yet?"

Locke imagined himself being honest, imagined telling Jean of the dizziness and the frothy spit. Imagined seeing Jeans face fall into a frown.

"No, nothing yet," Locke answered, "I guess the Archon was exaggerating the speed of the poison to scare us."

Jean looked at him intently for a couple of seconds; of course he was afraid that Locke was tricking him and hiding symptoms. Locke kept his face carefully neutral until Jean looked away.

"I guess he was."

The street they were walking down was rather crowded for the early hour, but it was one of the main thoroughfare of the city so it was nothing out of the ordinary. It simply meant that they had to be more vigilant than if they had traveled down one of the more sparsely visited side-streets, but since they wanted to avoid getting caught up in the underground of the city they tried to avoid those areas as much as they could. Locke spotted a threadbare child walking down the street towards them in the opposite direction, making an obvious attempt at not being noticeable. He exchanged a glance with Jean before continuing their conversation.

"And you?" Locke asked, "What do you think of this city?"

"I don't know yet."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm still waiting for it to stab me in the back."

"Come now, don't be so dramatic Jean! This seems like a perfectly nice port town."

"That is when you have to be careful, isn't it? When you think you know something." Jean was refusing to look at Locke now, "It is always then that you've got to watch your back extra carefully. Or your drink."

The child was now level with them, and Locke felt a small hand slip into his pocket. It was a good movement, but it hitched a little on the edge and tugged at his pants.

"Oh for Perelandro's sake," said Locke, "we've been over this again and again Jean, when will you-" He seized the small arm and yanked hard, bringing the kid, and themselves, to a full stop, "- let it go? Hello there."

He smiled down at the now terrified kid. If she had managed to pull the move of perfectly he would have let the kid have the few coins he kept in that pocket, but perfection was not reached by lenient means, and the kid needed to know that she had a lot to learn if she was to survive.

"What do you think you're doing?" said Locke. The kid was wriggling in his grip, but he did not release her, "Are you trying to steal from me?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please let me go, I promise I will never-"

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I'm sorry! Please let me go sir!"

"And why would I do that? I should turn you over to the guards, surely they know what to do with a street rat like yourself."

"No, please sir, anything but that! They kill kids like me, hang us from the gallows!"

Locke was all too familiar with that way of handling young criminals. He released the struggling girl's arm, "Well don't get caught again then. Watch your thumb next time, if it often catches like it did now; try to curl it into the palm and learn to grab things without it."

The girl looked at him in shock for a moment before darting away into the crowd of people around them, disappearing in seconds.

"Today's act of charity?" Jean asked from beside him.

"She had some potential, maybe she'll get to grow up."

"To steal more things you mean?"

"What a horrible life that would be!" Locke gasped in dread, "You'll have to pay for the bread today by the way."

"I guess she'll not go hungry tonight at least. I though you said she had to learn?"

"Come on, she deserved something for her efforts. And it's a lesson, to try and figure out how the coins made it into her pocked without her noticing it."

"You're just a trove of academic teachings, aren't you?"

"I try to do my part in educating the young."

They did their round of the market, and even though they walked home to the inn with a basket full of bread, wine, meat and fruit, their money reserve was starting to run low. They would have to find some source of income, and it would have to be pretty soon.


End file.
